


Treasure x Memory x Cramped New Apartment

by CuddleFloof



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gen, ghost boy kurapika, headcanon that kurapika's english was bad when he first left, hxh 69 minutes on twitter, i may continue this eventually? possibly???, though he wouldnt have left in this probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2422106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuddleFloof/pseuds/CuddleFloof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leorio moves into a small apartment when he needs a place to stay for his time in medical school. Originally, he was happy about his getting out of having a roommate; he soon found that he was anything but alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treasure x Memory x Cramped New Apartment

The first time Leorio realized that something was wrong, it was his first night in his new apartment. His first, sleepless night. He couldn't find a comfortable way to lay on the bed that had came in the furbished apartment that felt too foreign to him. He had grown tired of desperately rolling around and settled on his back, crossing his arms over his eyes with a groan. He had class in the morning, there was  _no_ way that he could get away with a sleepless night. He had said that to himself many times, repeating it to himself like a mantra and not expecting any reply. 

But that's exactly what he got. 

He stiffened, a sharp scream slicing through the air as he almost fell out of his bed when he heard an unfamiliar whisper. It didn't sound like English, and the voice may not have said anything at all. All he knew was there was a voice right next to his ear. 

"Who's there?!" He called out once his heartbeat quieted enough to a point where he could hear his thoughts again. This time, no one answered. He slowed his breathing and strained to hear any other signs of the voice appearing and was met with the still silence of the night. "Show yourself, I dare you." He called out again, his voice wavering now. There was a knock on the wall next to him that he recognized as being from someone else's room. Right. He needed to calm down, and be rational about this. He laid back down and pulled his comforter further up his shoulders with a huff. 

If they were going to fuck with him, they should at least make theirself useful and help him with unpacking. That last thought stretched out into a comfortable thoughtlessness until he felt himself drift off. Not any more calm, just more exhausted, he fell asleep. 

* * *

His first week stretched on mercilessly, and his first night was the furthest thing from his mind by the time the weekend finally came. He had decided that it was simply imagined by his exhausted self. Leorio concluded that because of his passing out every day after he finished his work, he wouldn't have any more encounters with that odd little whisper. And he was right, for a while. 

It was little things in the passing weeks that pushed him to think back to it. It had started with simple, petty actions. An object falling off the table in his living room that he had sworn he had kept away from the edge. Things going missing and being found in places he knows that he would never put them. Little hints that, had he looked back on them, he'd feel silly for not realizing what was going on. 

But no one would piece that together, and Leorio wasn't any different. It took until one night where he sat on a chair in his small "living room" squinting at the even smaller TV. Unmistakably, he heard someone much closer to him even over the TV.  "Lea.... .. Alone..." Leorio sat up straighter, his eyes opening wide as he blinked away his half-awake state. 

"Hello?" He called out into the emptiness of his apartment, frowning deeply. "...him.. .....ne." The voice repeated. Leorio shuddered, his eyes wide. He suddenly felt very cold, and his thoughts were racing trying to figure out what to do and what was going on. Something started to shake, he wasn't sure if it was the ground, something nearby, or just him. 

He got up, against his better judgement. "Hold on." He said, to no one in particular. He disappeared into his room for a moment, returning with one of his notebooks and a spare marker. "I can't understand you. Can you write?" He felt silly, but what else was he supposed to do? He opened the marker and placed both items on the table, and waited.

He sucked in a breath and held it whenever the marker lifted and seemed to write on its own. There was someone else here. Or, at least, something else. He watched the marker until it settled back down and was dropped unceremoniously back onto the table. He picked up the notebook slowly, and scanned the page. 

The writing was uncertain looking, as if whatever it was wasn't used to English. The letters were messy and jumbled together and hard to read. However, he could gather a surprising amount from the scratchy writing. 

"Kurapika, is it?" He asked into the thin air, and he could have sworn he picked up the slight movement of a nod in front of him. Once he rubbed his eyes, he realized he had simply imagined it. He creased his brow as he read the rest of the note, huffing in frustration. 

Leave him alone! Leave him, he doesn't need. Me instead! Spare him, kill me! Don't! 

The mantra that was written repeated many of the phrases over and over and jumbled the phrases up until it was almost impossible to understand. 

"Who is he?" He asked, before flipping a page and sliding the notebook over again. He focused the best he could at the spot where whoever was writing it was. He started to make out light blonde hair and striking bright red eyes. It was hard to pick out details, but he held his breath as he watched the boy's form come into view. The ghost was hard to see, but the more he knew where to look the easier it was for him to find him. He was almost too distracted to remember to look at the notebook and read it. 

Pairo, a friend. They killed him. In front of me. My fault, I think. I could not help. 

His eyes widened. "Did they kill you, too?" Kurapika nodded again. This time, he could see details in the boy's face as it grew more drawn and sad-looking as he listened. 

He frowned, shaking his head. "Damn. You couldn't meet up with him in the afterlife or something?" Kurapika leant back down to write more. 

Stuck here, probably. When I awoke I wandered until I got here and just stayed. Lost. 

Leorio hummed, mulling over his response for a bit. "Sorry to interrogate you when we first met. The name's Leorio. Maybe, when I get a chance, you could tell me more? Maybe I can take you back, and you can meet him?" Leorio pitched. He really wasn't sure what exactly he was suggesting, but the boy seemed friendly enough. And very young, too. As he studied the boy's face he realized that he couldn't be much older than 11 or 12. He shuddered at the thought of whatever made him appear in this way. After a long pause where Kurapika pieced together what Leorio said, he nodded.

"I'd like that." He said finally, slow and clear. He frowned to himself for a moment, before adding. "You might like Pairo. You meet him, too." Leorio nodded, grinning softly. 

"Yeah, I'll meet him with you. It's a promise." 


End file.
